


volleyball and mental fortitude

by trilobites



Series: HQ!! Rare Pairs 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Apologies, Blow Jobs, Conflict Resolution, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Future Fic, HQ Rarepair Week, Hand Jobs, I'm sensing a theme with Sakusa here, M/M, Makeup Sex, Making Up, Masochism, Mild Painplay, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilobites/pseuds/trilobites
Summary: Motoya observed him cycling through the stages of grief, Sakusa edition: denial of wrongdoing, prolonged irritation at everyone except self, prolonged irritation at self, grey fog of malaise, and finally, acceptance.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: HQ!! Rare Pairs 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724674
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	volleyball and mental fortitude

**Author's Note:**

> For the Haikyuu Rare Pair Week 2020 Day 2 Prompt - 'Space.' Nothing too rough happens, but please mind the tags.

A couple of years away from home was all it took for Motoya to forget just how cramped Tokyo properties were. It wasn’t like Motoya’s apartment in Nagano was a palatial estate, but compared to Sakusa’s, it was starting to feel like one. He was sitting at the kitchen table and trying to ignore the fact that Sakusa was right there across from him. Motoya stared down at his book— _Volleyball and Mental Fortitude_ —and resolutely didn’t look at Sakusa, who was radiating discontent. The silence stretched on between them, until it finally snapped and Sakusa set his phone down on the tabletop.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Motoya looked up then. “Seriously what?”

“You’re going to waste your time being pissy instead of getting to the part where we make up.”

Unbelievable. Sakusa Kiyoomi was the most self-important bastard in Greater Tokyo—if not the entire world. Just because he was done being mad, he wanted Motoya to be, too. Motoya glared at him. “I don’t see you trying to make up with me.”

“I’ve been _sitting here_ for thirty minutes while you’ve barely turned a page in your book. What are you reading anyway?”

Motoya couldn’t help it; he pulled the book out of Sakusa’s reach. “If you want to make up, you need to at least act like you’re sorry!”

“Yeah, okay: fucking sorry!” Sakusa snapped.

“Oh, ugh!” Motoya stood up, and his chair scraped loudly against the floor. He was halfway to the bedroom when Sakusa grabbed him by the elbow.

“Motoya, wait.”

Motoya did, even though he probably shouldn’t have. He turned around and looked at Sakusa, whose mouth was set in a slightly less firm line than usual. He seemed a little more apologetic than he had before. A little. Motoya still pulled his elbow out of Sakusa’s grip, though.

“What?”

Sakusa sighed deeply. “Um, so…”

“Well don’t let me force you into saying something you don’t mean.”

“Will you be quiet for a—no. Wait. Wait. That’s not what I meant.” He trailed off before muttering low under his breath, “Oh, fuck me.”

Motoya observed him cycling through the stages of grief, Sakusa edition: denial of wrongdoing, prolonged irritation at everyone except self, prolonged irritation at self, grey fog of malaise, and finally, acceptance. He was frowning now, a sign that he was reaching the shores of acceptance. Motoya did as Sakusa asked and waited for him to get the words out. He knew how to be patient with Sakusa, had learned that it was worth it because there were many more good things that Sakusa had to offer the world than maybe even he himself believed.

“Sorry. For being an asshole,” he said haltingly. “I know I was being…overbearing. So I get it. Why you got annoyed.”

Even though Sakusa hadn’t said it in so many words, it was obvious that he’d been excited to show off his very first apartment. That didn’t change that he was fussy about his personal space, however, and having Motoya over in new and unfamiliar territory where he didn’t know the customs and habits had been a challenge for them both. Not to mention the fact that they were both tall athletes cramped into an apartment meant for a single dweller. Motoya had been quicker than usual to anger when Sakusa had snapped at him for leaving the frying pan on the stove after breakfast. Which probably explained Sakusa’s foul mood: he got unexpectedly sensitive when Motoya actually got angry at him.

Motoya smiled at Sakusa, who didn’t do the same. “So you can dish it but can’t take it, huh?”

Sakusa’s face was starting to grow pink. “Well you do like to remind me of it. Like all the time.”

He was cute. Motoya went closer and watched the pink in Sakusa’s face grow splotchy with embarrassment. “You’re really cute.”

“You’re kind of a sadistic degenerate,” he mumbled, but didn’t stop Motoya from leaning up to kiss his cheek. He also turned his head when Motoya pressed a kiss to his lips. It went from chaste to wet and heavy in a matter of seconds, with Sakusa’s hand coming up to hold him in place by the nape. “C’mere.”

Motoya shivered and did as he was told. He opened his mouth for Sakusa, letting his tongue slip in and lick his. The slick friction had Motoya moaning softly and melting against him. One of Sakusa’s hands went straight to his ass. He grabbed it and squeezed hard. Motoya gasped, “Kiyoomi!”

“Fuck. You have a really sweet ass, don’t you?” Sakusa squeezed his ass again, using both hands now to pull Motoya’s hips flush to his. His mouth descended on Motoya’s throat, teeth and all. The pain went straight through Motoya, and he shuddered in arousal.

Happy Thursday, Komori Motoya. Time for a proper housewarming gift. Apparently the only gift Sakusa had in mind was sex. He also left Motoya a nice, dark bite mark on his throat where anyone could see. Sakusa _was_ rather possessive—a fact which didn’t have the effect of making Motoya as indignant as he should have been.

“Um, are we going to do it out here?” he asked.

Sakusa hummed thoughtfully and pulled back. His eyes fell to the stinging bite on Motoya’s skin. The hunger in his gaze was unmistakable. “No, let’s go inside.” 

That was how Motoya ended up stripped bare and on his back, his dick stuffed deep into Sakusa’s mouth. When they’d first started having sex, he hadn’t known what to expect from Sakusa. Would he be fussy in bed? Or would he approach it like he did volleyball, getting caught up in its tides before he could stop himself? It turned out to be the latter. And as with volleyball, Sakusa’s drive for sex was a bottomless pit.

“Kiyoomi,” he whimpered. “Your mouth is really hot. It’s making my dick so hard! Let me come?”

Sakusa grunted around him. His mouth was really full, lips stretched wide to fit all of Motoya inside. He didn’t even look up at Motoya, like he was too busy enjoying his cock to pay attention to anything else. Fuck. Motoya arched up, crying out for the pleasure building fast inside him.

“Kiyoomi, fuck, please! I want to come!”

Motoya’s voice was too loud even to his own ears. He muffled himself behind his hand, writhing as Sakusa bobbed his head up and down on his cock in a toe-curling rhythm. Sakusa’s hands came up to his ankles. They pushed them down and held Motoya in place. He opened his eyes and gave Motoya a look. The message was clear: _behave yourself_.

“I’m trying!” As good as he was feeling, Motoya needed release. If it were up to Sakusa, Motoya could easily get strung along to the tune of ten minutes. The thought of it alone made him sob. He reached to tug on Sakusa’s hair and looked at him pleadingly. “I can’t take any more. Please?”

Sakusa’s hands relaxed on his ankles, and he pulled off of Motoya’s dick altogether. He wiped up his chin and lips with a tissue from the nightstand, before coming over to where Motoya was panting. The back of his hand was cool where he brushed back his fringe. Motoya leaned into his touch.

“Are you okay? Did I work you too hard?” Sakusa’s tone was brittle, his voice rough from servicing him, but underlying his words was concern and tenderness. Motoya smiled.

“No, I’m okay.” He pressed a kiss to Sakusa’s palm. “Finish taking care of me?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sakusa leaned down to kiss his forehead. Then he grabbed the lube and poured it into his palm. “Honestly. You should have said something sooner. Do I look like a mindreader to you?”

Motoya laughed. “Are you really lecturing me in the middle of sex, Kiyoomi?”

Sakusa faltered, and his mouth hung open at the same time that his brow furrowed. Motoya grinned wide and sat up to press a kiss to his chin. Whatever words Sakusa had been preparing next were lost to time, because Motoya pulled his hand between his legs.

“Kiyoomi, I’m still hard because of your mouth,” he said and looked at him with appropriately wide, wet eyes. “Are you going to leave me like this?”

Sakusa growled and pushed Motoya down onto his back. His hand came around Motoya’s dick and began tugging. The slippery warmth of Sakusa’s fist made a good sleeve for his cock. He gasped in relief.

“This time _stay. Still_ ,” Sakusa ordered.

Motoya nodded, every hair on his nape standing on edge. He wanted nothing more than to listen to Sakusa when he got commanding like this. The pressure on his cock was second to the satisfaction he derived from doing what Sakusa wanted of him. Motoya’s head grew hazy from it, and before long, his hips were bucking up hard into Sakusa’s fist.

“Kiyoomi,” he moaned. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah? It’ll look good when your cute little cock spurts.”

“Oh, am I allowed to come?”

Sakusa laughed. “Yeah. Why don’t you show me how much milk you can make?”

The words made Motoya’s ears and cheeks hot. The embarrassment was what did him in, in the end. His eyes clenched shut and he wailed out Sakusa’s name as his orgasm overtook him. He came hard, his world narrowing down to the pleasure that seared inside him.

When Motoya came down from his orgasm, he cracked open an eye and saw Sakusa examining the cum on his hand. He looked right at Motoya and licked the dribble of cum down his wrist.

“What are you—!”

“Bitter. Are you eating your fruits and vegetables like you’re supposed to?”

“You’re such a pig!”

Motoya shoved Sakusa with the sole of his foot. The asshole didn’t even have the decency to fall over, just smile crookedly like he’d won a prize. Motoya finished the job by pushing him onto his back. He climbed atop of Sakusa and frowned at him. None of this served to do anything except amuse Sakusa.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I should leave you high and dry is what.”

Sakusa shrugged. “Okay.”

Motoya huffed, before he promptly stuck his hand down Sakusa’s pants. That got him to shut up. His head fell back and he groaned at the grip Motoya got on his quickly stiffening cock.

“I thought you were going to leave me high and dry.”

“Do you _want_ to be in trouble?”

“Ha, it’s cute when you get like this.” Sakusa exhaled heatedly when Motoya squeezed him, just this side of painful. His cock immediately hardened the rest of the way. “Fuck. Shit.”

The trouble with trying to punish Sakusa was that pain only seemed to turn him on. The only other way to get him to behave would take more patience than either of them had right now, so Motoya pulled down the waistband of Sakusa’s pants and lubed up his own hand. Sakusa’s breaths came out in hard, fast puffs as Motoya jerked his cock. He paid extra attention to the swollen head of it, rubbing with his thumb.

“You’re so badly behaved,” he chided. “I haven’t been disciplining you enough.”

Sakusa’s hand fisted the sheets, and he fucked up into Motoya’s fist. “Guess not. Are you going to do anything about that?”

Motoya couldn’t help smiling. And this was exactly why Sakusa would never learn. “Maybe I will. You think I should tie you down to this bed and bruise your ass until you cream yourself? We can have you practice saying ‘sorry’ and make sure that you get really good at it.”

Sakusa moaned loudly. “Fuck, Motoya!”

Just a little more. Sakusa was trembling already, a sign that he was on the edge. Motoya reached with his free hand to pinch hard at Sakusa’s nipple. He was rewarded with the sight of Sakusa arching off the bed, cock spurting all over his fist and onto his stomach. His cum was hot and viscous, and Motoya watched in fascination as it trickled slowly down his hand. He worked Sakusa through the peak of his orgasm, and pulled his hand away when his brow furrowed in agitation. Sakusa fell back onto the bed, then, too, sated and relaxed.

Motoya collapsed down next to Sakusa, resting his head on his arm as they both caught their breaths. Neither of them said anything into the companionable silence, until Sakusa shifted beneath him and sighed.

“I think this bed is too small for both of us,” he announced.

“I agree.”

“If we ever want to live together, we need to buy a house.”

“A palace.”

“More like a two bedroom.”

“Where will we put our dog?”

“We’re not getting a dog.”

“Aw, but I have a name for her and everything!”

“You _what_?”

Motoya propped himself up on his elbows and grinned down at Sakusa. His hair was mussed, fallen out of the neatly coiffed style. The sharpness in his expression had been dulled down to a quiet content. Motoya kissed the tip of his nose and the moles on his forehead.

“Okay, we can hold off on the dog. Want to make us dinner?” he asked. A compromise for his imaginary dog.

Sakusa snorted, but smiled back at Motoya anyway. “Fine. Come give me a kiss first.”

Motoya did, and trailed behind Sakusa on the way to his new bathroom, where they bumped elbows at the sink and nudged each other aside to get through the door first. Motoya was kicked out of the kitchen, relegated to peering in from the other side of the counter while Sakusa neatly chopped up the vegetables for stir fry. He leaned his cheek against his forearms and daydreamed about this becoming a routine sight instead of a treat reserved for infrequent visits. Though there wasn’t yet a space that belonged to them both just yet, Motoya thought he could look forward to waiting for the day when there would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. This challenge has broken into my home and killed all my crops. 7 days of sustained writing is more difficult than even I had anticipated. But I hope that you were able to enjoy this rough story as well.
> 
> Things like living spaces are quite critical, so I wanted to see the adult versions of these little shitlords struggle with this stage of their relationship. Thank you for reading!
> 
> I am on [twitter](http://twitter.com/catspizzas) most days.
> 
> EDIT (06/20/2020): Thank you for Furudate for making me write unintentional incest. I will now eat my fist. I won't delete this or the other stories of this ship, but I realize that they have not aged well. At all.


End file.
